I kept. . . . returning to the (ancient Roman) wall paintings with their veiled melancholy and elegant plasticity.
There's some pretty good academic research that suggest that what Americans don't like is losing.
The terrorists who have succeeded in carrying out spectacular attacks against Western targets in the past have been college-educated, technically proficient men who are capable of manufacturing and deploying chemical, radiological, and biological weapons. Al Qaeda attracts the kind of highly educated men who one day might be able to pull off such an attack.
I stepped into the bedroom where he was killed and looked up at the ceiling, where you could still see the patterns of blood that had spurted from bin Laden's head when the bullet fired by a U. S. Navy SEAL tore through the terrorist leader's face.
Often it is important to listen to what people aren't saying.
I am very suspicious of the notion that somehow bin Laden was a media creation. . . Bin Laden's actions made him into a big deal. Not the media.
At one point people in al Qaeda were actually drawing monthly paychecks when they were based in Sudan.
And of all illumination which human reason can give, none is comparable to the discovery of what we are, our nature, our obligations, what happiness we are capable of, and what are the means of attaining it.
I was driven, as have been many writers, both by a repulsion of the childhood home's narrow confines and a desire to reach further, to keep desiring more of a future not yet imagined and not yet written down.
How did you find me here? If I was blind, I would see you. Stay with me. Forever. That's the whole point. I'll never leave. Not even if you kill me.
Don't let people tell you your ideas won't work.